


The Music of Angels

by writeyourownlifestory



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-15 09:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18071078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourownlifestory/pseuds/writeyourownlifestory
Summary: Joe meets an interesting man with wings at a mutant-only fight club.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no fucking clue where this came from but I put the time and effort to write this, so I'm posting it regardless.

Joe didn’t know how it happened. How he wound up in the club. Places like these weren’t spoken of. You had to know people to gain access but he did it without speaking to a single soul. He didn’t belong there and he knew that. This place was meant or the worst kind of mutants. Those who used their powers for fortune and fame and for all the wrong reasons. Being in Europe was supposed to be fun. Enjoyable. A new start after such a terrible life back in New York. 

 

He should not have found his way inside some dingy club that was trying way too hard to rip off fight club. He ordered a drink and alone. He mostly ignored the cage where the groups were fighting. He never saw the appeal of it. Hurting another human being. Those thoughts weren’t allowed to cross in mind in any sense, even if this shit was supposed to be fake.

 

It certainly didn’t look like. The people who entered that ring were there for a reason. To kick ass and get paid. A handful of people had gone in, with a few of them having to be dragged by the end. 

 

Joe caught a glance every now and then but didn’t pay much attention. Not until he saw him. 

 

The Angel, they had called him. With denim and a leather jacket, the man was exactly that. Beautiful and elegant, with long white feathered wings. He seemed to be the favorite in the group and Joe could understand why.

 

He built up the antics of this. He put on a show. He screamed and hissed and fly in the air. He lifted people right off their feet and dropped them down like they were just a mere sandbag. It was fascinating. Joe didn’t like fighting but found he couldn’t look away. There was something about the situation that caused the man to be so curious. 

 

He didn’t stay for every fight. He drank his beer and watched the blond man toss his opponent around the cage before taking his leave. He found himself returning a few nights later. Once again the Angel was fighting. Fighting and losing apparently. 

 

The place tried to up the ante a bit and put the electric fence to good use. The two mutants were being tossed around like rag dolls and every time they landed against the fence there was cheering of excitement and cries of agony. Joe had to leave, unable to take the horror of what was going on. 

 

He didn’t want to go back but felt himself longing to see more of it. Nobody good ever fought. Just shitty people with shitty powers in need of money because they were stuck in a shitty situation. Joe understood their pain but knew it wasn’t a pace for a guy like himself. 

 

He decided to stray away for several nights, almost two weeks. He popped in and went to the bar, finding two separate people fighting in the cage. He thought for a moment that perhaps someone bigger and better would come along and Angel would appear since he seemed to be their staple but he never did.

 

He got the bartender to talk a bit about it, but the guy just snickered. “He won’t be coming around here anymore.” The man mentioned to Joe, leaving him with his glass and unanswered questions. 

 

On the wall, there was a selection of chains hanging up, all of which contained metal tags. They were the losers title chain. If you came and fought, you were given a tag and when you won, you earned the right to keep them. When you lost you were stripped of the tags. Squinting, Joe read them carefully, finding the latest pair belonged to Angel’s. They were under lock and key, special items needed to be protected after all.

 

Joe decided right then and there he was going to take them. He didn’t know why but it was a small choice on his part. He tried a couple of times while the place was packed, but the bartender kept a close eye on them all. He made up a plan that worked like a charm. He came in the early morn when they weren’t even open yet. 

 

He made that whole rouse up about how the building was old and the walls were original. He brought his violin and preached to the bartender about how he just wanted to see what it would sound like inside such a place. The bartender didn’t look happy but they were basically closed so he was allowed one song. He started out slow, just mindlessly playing until finally selecting his song of choice. 

 

Joe closed his eyes, keeping his glowing eyes from sight as he played on, allowing the vibrations of the music to calm the club and the bartender. Without even having to finish the song, the bartender was left lethargic and in a daze. Whipping the bow over, he cut into the glass they were hidden behind. Chain in hand, Joe left the club. 

 

He held onto the tags for a few days, his fingers skimming over the name. Angel. Was that his real name of the one they called him while fighting? He had no idea where to even find the man, so Joe began asking around. He didn’t like to get involved with things like this but he felt compelled to give the chain back to him. 

 

Eventually, someone passed along enough information for Joe to be able to get a location. It was run down the building; abandoned long ago. He entered carefully, practically stumbling through the dark. 

 

He followed the sound of screaming trap music, his ears practically bleeding at the garbage sounds. It wasn’t long until he was spotted and an empty liquor bottle was thrown against the ground at his feet. “Piss off!”

 

“Jesus!” Joe jumped in surprise, searching the rafters until he caught sight of the man. The first thing he noticed was how badly in shape the man was. Not his body. Oh no even in the darkness he could tell how well sculpted he was. But his wings...they were completely destroyed. Practically clipper and balding. He looked like someone had been plucking him one feather at a time.

 

“What the hell is this?” The man muttered. He leaped down, just barely making the landing. He looked Joe up and down, disgust lingering in the air. “Who the hell are you?” 

 

“I’m...it doesn’t matter. I wanted to give you something.” 

 

The blond mutant scoffed, already turning to walk away. “There’s nothing you could give me that I want.” 

 

Joe went into his satchel, pulling out the chain and tag. “I found these at the club. I think they belong to you.” 

 

The blond looked back, his eyes settling on the jewelry. Joe held them out for the man to take them but he never did. Instead, he scoffed and just continued on walking, scooping up another liquor bottle so he could return to drinking. “That’s not me any more kid.”

 

Joe fought the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t some child that came to show off to his hero. He just wanted to do a good deed. Angel had been a fantastic fighter. Even if he lost a time or two that didn’t mean he should have been forced to give up something he wore on the daily. 

 

“Did you quit fighting?”

 

“Forced retirement.” The blond shouted to him. “Can’t fight if I can’t fly. Can’t fly with my wings fucked up,” 

 

“Will they heal?”

 

“Is there a reason you’re so nosy?” The man asked, spinning around to face him. “Are you a fan? That’s it, right? Lemme guess you’re some shy little mutant who snuck into the club and saw me fight. I’m not here to be anybody hero.”

 

Reaching behind him Angel plucked a feather from his back and placed it on his hand. He blew it towards Joe, who caught it in the mess of confusion. “There. Have a souvenir! A little keepsake from one freak to another.” 

 

“I didn’t come here to bother you. I just wanted to return the tags.” 

 

“Keep em!” The man shouted as he turned back around. “Useless to me anyway.”

 

Joe rolled onto the soles of his shoes, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He didn’t know how this exchange was supposed to go down in her head but either way, he found himself disappeared with it.

 

“This music is terrible for you,” Joe mentioned to him bitterly. “It will melt your brain away. Absolutely terrible for the healing processes.” 

 

“Well, then, Mozart, come back tomorrow and play me something worthwhile!” It was sarcasm, even Joe could tell it was. Still, Joe found himself leaving the abandoned building, feeling like he was ready to take on a challenge.

 

Joe did return. Mostly because he was stubborn and maybe even a little bit stupid. He returned to the abandoned warehouse, finding the winged man high up in the rafters, staring aimlessly out a gaping hole that led to the sky.

 

“Why the fuck are you here?” He grumbled out, his voice echoing from above.

 

“You told me to come back,” Joe answered him. He placed the boom box onto a nearby table, gently placing his satchel beside it. “Your music of choice is terrible. If you want to heal, you have to focus on something that will help your brain stems focus.” 

 

A sudden bang caught his attention and Joe turned to see the blond behind him, having jumped from the rafters to join him in the ground. “What makes you think I want to heal?” He muttered. His accented voice was heavy and slightly slurred. Once again, he had a bottle on his hand. Half empty at this point. 

 

“You don’t ever want to fly again?”

 

“Remind me again why that is your concern?” 

 

Joe didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know why he was there, why he was trying to help this man, especially when he had no intentions of helping himself. The blond man seemed perfectly content with sitting around with his broken wings and drinking his sad problems away.

 

But he was here because he did care. Maybe it was how he was raised. To care about others, to care about his fellow mutants. “I’ve seen you fight,” Joe told him. 

 

“Christ, you are a bloody fan.” He groaned, lifting the bottle to sip from it. “Did you jerk off to the feather I gave you?”

 

“Is this really what you want? To live in some abandoned warehouse with holes in it and drink endless of bottles of off-brand rum?” 

 

“And what if it is? Off-brand is just as good as brand name. Cost less too.” Joe rolled his eyes, turning back to the boom box he brought over. He knew it was old fashioned and basically obsolete, but it still got the job done. 

 

He pressed the play button and turned it up. Classical music filled the air and he looked back to see the blond practically starring daggers at him. 

 

“Are you joking?”

 

“Classical music is good for the brain.” Joe insisted. It helped reduce stress and calmed the parts of the mind that focused on pain. It helped fight depression and was just nice to listen to overall. “Just give it a try. What’s the worse that could happen?” 

 

The blond rolled his eyes, walking away but he allowed the music to play on. Joe took it as a triumphant. He let the man borrow the boom box, promising to return with new music in the next few days. 

 

He carried on with his life, going back to his apartment and place of work. He lived a very average life, just coming and going as the days went on. When he returned, he found the man hanging upside down, the music filling the air of the spacious building. 

 

“I thought you were an angel, not a bat?” He called out, setting his satchel down as he began rummaging through it. 

 

“Stage name, mate.” He replied. He flipped himself over, his wings failing to adjust him as he slammed to the ground. 

 

“Christ, are you okay?” Joe asked, rushing over to help him stand. 

 

“I thought you said this music was supposed to help me heal.” The blond muttered, taking Joe’s arm as he came to his feet. 

 

“Over time it will. Mozart might have been a genius, but even he couldn’t perform miracles.” 

 

The blond rolled his eyes as he stood straight, his jacked up wings spreading out behind him. “You’ve returned. I’m honored.” 

 

“Is this all you do? Hangout in this place and listen to the music I gave you?” 

 

“And drink off-brand liquor.” He commented.

 

“How do you afford?” Wasn’t like he was working after all. 

 

The blond shrugged, walking around Joe aimlessly. “Still had enough saved up from my last few fights. Lived rather modestly prior. Didn’t spend much.”

 

“And when you run out? What are you going to do then?” 

 

The blond didn’t answer him. Joe walked back around, going to where his things were. “I brought you some new material.” He confessed, showing off the CD’s he retrieved from his bag. He showed them off proudly, and while he rolled his eyes in response, the blond did show a mild interest. 

 

“I’ll be a classical major by the end of this.” He mentioned, his voice laced with sarcasm. “You can’t honestly tell me this shit is better than rock and roll.”

 

“You can’t honestly tell me that garbage you were listening to _was_ rock and roll.” Joe fired back. “If you want to listen to good music, then fine. Listen to The Beatles, or the Who, or Queen. But whatever that screaming shit you had blasting the other night wasn’t music.” 

 

“Are you the music police or something?” 

 

“Or something,” Joe answered him. He held the bundle of CD’s out to him. “Do you want them or not?” 

 

With a roll of his eyes, the blond took them. He switched out the Mozart CD for another and let the music play on through the warehouse. Joe left after that, let the man sit alone with the music. 

 

When he returned a few days later, the blond demanded more from him. He was asking him questions and showing genuine interest in what he had been listening to. Joe had brought food over and the two sat on the ground, a piece of opera playing around them. 

 

“Where did you learn about all this stuff?” The blond had asked him, mid-bite. 

 

“I was a composure a few years back,” Joe confessed to him. 

 

“An actual composure? Like the ones you see in movies with the sticks they wave around?” 

 

Joe snorted and bobbed his head. “Just like that. I was a first chair violinist as well but thats all over now.”

 

“What happened?” 

 

What happened indeed? Joe did not like who had he become over the following years. His ego had gone to his head and the music was all that mattered to him. His entire life he had been taught to use the gifts he was given and good things would come to him, and they did. He was a growing name in the music industry, but it wasn’t due to sheer luck. He was a cheat and a monster and when those close to him called him out on it, he made mistakes that he could not take back. 

 

After the last one, he vowed to never play again unless he needed to. He worked at a music store now, one of the last ones still standing. He left his fabulous life behind and went to a place where people like him walked the streets and were a dime a dozen. 

 

“If Angel is your stage name, what is your actual name?” Joe asked him, looking up from his container. 

 

The blond leaned back silently. “Ben.” He confessed. “I haven’t used it in a long time. I’ve been fighting for a long time and well, Angel wasn’t very original but it stuck.” 

 

“Well, Ben. I’m Joe.” The man stuck out his hand as an offering. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

 

With a roll of his eyes, Ben shook his hand and the two went back to their meal. They continued to do this for a while. Sitting around the dingy warehouse. Eating food and talking about everything and anything. 

 

It felt good. Having someone to talk to. Having a place to be. Joe almost forgot what it was like to be social with somebody. Ben opened up to him slowly, revealing bits and pieces about himself and Joe did the same. They grew closer and Joe was pleased. 

 

And to his surprise, the music did start to relax Ben to a degree. Enough for him to think he could get back out and fight again. Joe was against it. His wings were still badly damaged and he could barely hover, let alone fly. 

 

Joe wasn’t happy about it. He could get hurt so easily. Ben had been hurt before and it took weeks for him to heal and now he was so ready and willing to be thrown back into the same pit that hurt him in the first place.

 

“All I have to do is toss the other guy around a bit. Winning is what I do, Joe. Besides, have you seen the freaks here tonight?”

 

Joe had to admit, none of them looked like they could take Ben down, with or without broken wings. In the end, it didn’t even matter. He stood on the sidelines and watch as Ben bought inside the cage. 

 

He beat his first opponent. The poor guy didn’t stand a chance and Joe had him down after two hits. All that did was inflate his ego however and by the time the second guy got into the cage, Joe could see Ben felt like he was talking (or hovering) on air. 

 

And then the blond promptly got his ass handed to him. 

 

It was bad enough that the scrawny fella they had in the cage with him was super strong, but the bastard grabbed Ben by the wings and threw him straight out of the cage. Joe had been the one to carry Ben out; the man who was bleeding from the nose cursing that he’d be back. 

 

Bringing him back to the warehouse, Joe cringed every time Ben would scream out as he tried to stretch his wings. They were beyond broken this time around. There was no flying or even trying. Ben was bleeding from his face and his back and with every movement, more feathers were falling off. 

 

“He should have just killed me at this point,” Ben muttered, falling against the table. 

 

“That’s not funny,” Joe told him, standing aside so Ben could stretch his wings out. 

 

“I wasn’t joking.” The blond snapped. “I need your help. I can’t…I have to let them reach, but I can’t move them on my own.

 

Joe walked around the table, looking him over. He looked so broken and hurt. Ben lifted his head, his eyes tear-filled. “Dammit Joe, please!” 

 

With a swift nod, Joe came around and stood behind him. He waited until Ben was ready, counting down before grabbing hold of the wings and pulling back so they could stretch out. 

 

The scream Ben released was ungodly. Joe had never heard a sound so sad and painful. The blond collapsed onto the table and wept openly; his anger and ego forgot. Eyeing his satchel in the background, Joe walked over and grabbed it. He rummaged around until he found what he needed. 

 

Grabbing the violin and bow, Joe took a slow breath, the sound of Ben’s cries echoing in his ears before he started playing.

 

It was slow at first, but he began to pick it up, the music filling the room. Joe moved closer, watching as Ben’s cries began to die down until nothing but silence came from the man. A comfortable calm came over the blond and he found himself about to stretch his wings out without any issue. 

 

Joe stood to face him, his eyes glowing as he played on. Ben watched him before a sigh of relief slipped from his lips as he fell into a smooth slumber. 

 

They didn’t talk about it until the next day. When Ben finally cornered him and demanded to know what happened. Joe didn’t like talking about his powers. The gifts that he possessed. Ben had told him all about his life. 

 

How he didn’t get his wings until he was a child and how his family was dead set against having a mutant in the family. Ben had tried to cut his wings off, but over time realized that the wings were apart of him, physically and more. If his family did not want him, then he’d be fine on his own. He wasn’t going to conform just to please those who should be loving him for who he truly is. 

 

Joe had always been loved, always had the support. When he was just a child, his family thought he was a prodigy. He excelled in the violin and worked his way from the chain until he had his own performance pieces. He was writing music and performing it. He was composure and his name was up in lights. 

 

All the while he had been given the gift to control emotions with his music. He could make people weep or cheer or grow angry. He manipulated so many around him for his own worth and he was pleased with that. At least until he found those who could see right through his gaze. 

 

He made many regrets in his lifetime but using his powers to destroy those who did not see him for who he saw himself as was high up on the list. He vowed to never cause such pain again and stopped playing. He ran away from his life and built a new one here. 

 

He took interest in Ben for reasons he still did not know and found that he was the only thing that made Joe want to play again. He had forgotten how much he missed it until this very moment. 

 

They sat alone in an empty warehouse. Two losers having no idea how to carry on without the gifts they had been given. 

 

“At least we can suffer together?” Joe had mentioned lamely.

 

Ben groaned, adjusting his wings as he smoked his cigarette. Joe placed his hand on Ben’s, squeezing his fingers sadly. Ben looked away but entwined their joined hands in reply. It was a simple gesture, but it meant more than either man could express. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a lot of people actually really liked this story so I figured I'd try to come up with something. Still not too sure how this all works, since it was such an odd idea to begin with. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this little snippet.

They argued often, usually about things that didn’t matter. About Ben’s drinking it Joe’s inability to not care about the little things. They never got into real fights, because they just couldn’t. Sometimes Ben would say something stupid and Joe would reply with something mean. There would be silence for a while but it was never more than that. 

 

Their biggest argument to date was when Joe told Ben he should move in with him. Ben refuses for his own reasons, stating that a freak like him wouldn’t dwell well in Joe’s apartment. He had been there a time or two; stopping by to surprise him or sneaking in when he didn’t want to be alone.

 

It was awkward at first. Joe’s apartment was small and in a more rural area. They weren’t used to mutants or at least the ones that were more physical. Joe could hide in plain sight and while the area was mutant friendly, seeing a man with giant wings wasn’t something you’d expect on a Sunday morning.

 

Joe had bumped into a couple of things while navigating his way around. He could fold his wings in well enough but they still stuck out. Their fucking wings after all. They had gotten healthier over time, but he had yet to try to fly for an extended time. Joe was persistent about it. He was overprotective and sometimes it was too much but Ben didn’t say a word about it. He liked knowing someone gave a shit about him.

 

It was one of the reasons Ben didn’t want to move in with him. He didn’t want to be a bother to the man. Joe had already done so much for him and that included getting him a job. It was easy to work for the most part; filing at the library. Nobody saw him and he could reach the higher shelves without having to use the ladder. 

 

Ben still missed the excitement of the fight club. Of causing simple pain and getting paid for it. He thought about going back, just to watch a fight but he couldn’t. If Joe found out there would be an argument like no other and Ben didn’t want to push his luck. They had been doing well together. Making whatever this was work.

 

They didn’t kiss or have sex. They were intimate in other ways. Like holding hands or laying together. Ben had never been self-conscious before. He knew he was handsome, that his body was toned. He had let his hair grow out until it was wild and curly but now he was cutting it and trying to make himself look good. All for the sake of a man who would smile at him even if he was wearing the ugliest sweater in the planet.

 

They were together more often than they were alone. Ben had gotten used to being alone ever since he left home. Nobody really hung around him and he was fine with that. He was used to his ways of drinking and fighting, the cheering crowds shouting his name.

 

That was over now and the only time he heard his name was when Joe spoke it. So sweetly, in fact. He liked hearing it. Longed for it in fact. Ben would never admit it, but he likes being around the man, whether they were working together or doing literally nothing. 

 

Joe was playing for Ben one day, not to make him feel anything but just to show off his talent. The vibrators from the music were too strong and one of the rafters in Ben’s building had come apart and nearly crushed Joe in the process. Ben swooped in and covered them both with his wings, shielding them from the fallen wood. 

 

It was scary and they held onto one another for the rest of the night. It was after that Joe demanded he come stay with him. They would make it work, one way or another. Joe had always been the hopeful one of the two. Ben took things for what they were, for face value while Joe tried to see things differently. 

 

Ben refuses, not wanting to invade Joe’s space. He didn’t want to push his limits, didn’t want to get his hopes up. Ben still woke up every day expecting Joe to realize he wasn’t worth the trouble. There was so much more he could be doing with his time than worrying about some winged freak. 

 

Joe hated that word. Freak. Ben had been called it through his whole life that he embarrassed it while it was still so new to the brunet. Ben was envious of Joe. He could walk around without a care and nobody would know about the power he possessed. 

 

Ben wasn’t born with the wings. They came with his childhood and had been ruining his life ever since. He grew to care for them as he got older but that’s due to him not having the choice. He tried to cut them off when he was young but the pain was too much. His life had been nothing but pain since but he got used to it.

 

Now there is a man in his life who gave a shit and Ben didn’t know what to do. He had never expected to care for another man like this. Some women thought it was hot. Fucking a guy with wings, but to Joe, it didn’t even matter. The wings were the least interesting thing about Ben in Joe’s eyes and the blond found that very very odd.

 

They went back and forth on the subject until Joe finally stormed out. He wanted to take this to the next level, to bring some normalcy to their relationship or whatever the hell they were calling it. Ben didn’t understand why Joe couldn’t see this wasn’t normal and never would be.

 

They were fucking mutants. They were freaks. They didn’t have anything normal. Joe didn’t care, however. Joe still worried, still dreamed of a better life.

 

After Joe left Ben tried to drink his problems away. He drank and smoked and cursed aloud until he was falling asleep. When he woke, it was due to the pain in his wings. The couch he had been sleeping on was on fire; the cigarette he was smoking has fallen from his hands. He pushed away, watching as the flames lifted higher and high. He tried to put it out but found the fire instead of growing more and more. The old wood just too dry.

 

Ben decided to fuck it all. He grabbed his jacket and the few things he cared about. The flames grew higher and before he knew it the whole place was in flames. With the door blocked, Ben leaped from the window, shattering it as he flew out. As he landed on the street beside him, he watched as his home burnt to the ground. 

 

People came to check it all out, while Ben sat in the background. Nobody knew he lived there and he preferred it that way. He liked the space and privacy. Now that was all over.

 

Joe found him in the crowd and didn’t hesitate to pull him into a tight embrace. They held onto another with Joe checking him over and over. He wasn’t hurt too much; barely had any burns on him. That didn’t stop the brunet from checking and double checking. 

 

They looked over the remains of the building, knowing there was nothing left to hold onto. Joe took his hand, holding it tightly in his own. “Come on,” Joe muttered softly. 

 

There was no fighting now. Ben didn’t have any other place to go to. They went down the street and up the few flights of stairs. They entered Joe’s apartment and closed the door behind them. The only things Ben had taken was his jacket and the boom box Joe had given him. Everything else was left behind.

 

He’d worry about his clothes and other things tomorrow. Joe insisted that they could all be replaced. Ben was safe and maybe just maybe this would persuade him to quit smoking. Ben wasn’t amused but that was fine. 

 

Joe’s couch was terrible and wasn’t worth sleeping on. It was too small and uncomfortable. He missed his flammable piece of garbage that he used to sleep on. Though it didn’t matter since Joe took his hand again and brought him to the bedroom. Joe’s bed was small too much he was determined to make it work. They undressed and Joe crawled onto the mattress, patting the place beside him.

 

Ben came forward, going to lay on his stomach. His wings stayed out, folding over them both. Joe huddled close to him, smiling contently. He had got what he wanted and all t took was for Ben to be a complete and utter moron and burn his home to the ground due to falling asleep with a cigarette in his hand. 

 

Joe’s hands were on him, smoothing up and down his chest, his back, his arms. 

 

“Push me off if I crush you,” Ben told him quietly. He was too heavy and the bed was too small, but Joe was shaking his head, pulling Ben closer. 

 

“Impossible.” He swore, his nose rubbing against Ben’s chin. He turned his head, kissing Ben’s cheek.

 

It was the more intimate they had ever been and Ben realized just how worried Joe had been when he found out the building went up in flames. 

 

But that was over now. They were together, in this predicament. But they were content.

When they fall asleep, they were wrapped up in one another. Ben didn’t know if this was normal or not but he could certainly get used of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, do you like it? Still not sure if I will continue on, but it's not the first time I've said that. Love Someone, hello! 
> 
> Tell me what you thought! I'm sorry it's not like, super X-Men related. I promise I'll do more stuff later if I do continue.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many people asked, so please enjoy.

Ben wanted to make this work. This relationship with Joe. The had made living together work, despite it being the worst possible idea. His apartment was too small. He could barely stretch out his wings without hitting something. Every day, he knocked something over. It reminded him of his home when he was a child. When his family would keep him locked away in his room. He would pace back and forth, his growing wings knocking everything off his dresser. It angered his parents, but he didn’t care. They could go rot at this point. 

 

They were ashamed of having a freak for son and tried to hide him away. They were kind enough to get him tutors but unless the wings could be removed, they didn’t want the world seeing him as their son. When Ben ran away, he swore to never allow people to treat him that way again and for the most part, he kept good on that promise. No longer did he fight in that horrible club with those monstrous people. He had someone in his life who cared about him, far more than he deserved. 

 

Joe didn’t think twice about his wings. He quite liked them actually. He would comment on how soft the feathers were and outdo his best to help Ben take care of them. They still weren’t as strong as they used to be and sometimes he needed assistance when it came to taking care of them. 

 

Ben wasn’t used to someone giving a shit about him and tried not to take it with a grain of salt. He knew Joe wasn’t going to up and get bored of him. People didn’t do that to those they cared about. They were friends after all. More even. They shared a bed nightly, cuddled together on the small mattress. 

 

Ben felt terrible for it, taking all the space, but Joe didn’t seem to mind. They would wake up together, Ben’s head resting on Joe’s shoulder or head. His wings would be covering them both, shielding them from the sunlight coming from the window. 

 

They’d wake up slow some days. Nuzzling noses and sweet sighs. Joe’s hand would run up and down Ben’s back, his fingers unbothered by the tethered skin where his wings were attached. 

 

Sometimes they’d exchange a kiss on the cheek or neck or shoulder, but never any more than that. It was gentle and intimate, something Ben had never experienced before. They would go to work together, spending hours on end around one another. Ben never expected to like this. Being with someone endlessly, but he loved it. He didn’t know how he survived before Joe, but then again, thats what it was.

 

Surviving, not living. 

 

And with Joe, he was living happily. 

 

At least he was until they arrived.

 

The owners of the club. Well, not exactly the owners. The owners were decent people. These were the fuckers that ran the fight club. The ones that had convinced Ben to do it time and time again. They made good money for him, especially when he became a crowd favorite. 

 

They would be the ones to lather him up in lotion or glitter, making him feel more like a stripper than a fighter. They used him for everything he was worth and then threw him out the door the moment he couldn’t fight anymore. 

 

Ben had been hurt at first, unsure of what life would bring without being about to fight, but he was good now. Great actually. He didn’t think about it anymore. The money he used to make and the pretty girls that used to hang on his arms and pluck at his feathers. 

 

He had a better life now and didn’t want to look back on his so-called glory days. So when the group of men found him on the street, he didn’t hesitate to break away. They weren’t mutants. They had no power other than the guns they proudly carried to defend themselves and to scare the hell out of those who weren’t bulletproof. 

 

Ben was one of those people, easily eyeing the guns as he was guided back to the club. They said they just wanted to talk and Ben knew better than to deny them. It was empty now, practically abandoned, just like his old warehouse. 

 

They kept it casual, but full of business. “We want you to fight again. We want you to bring Angel back.” 

 

“Angels dead,” Ben told him easily. It felt wonderful to say aloud. He hadn’t been called by that moniker in so long. He was so unaffected by it now. The name used to be shouted to the rooftop by his apparent fans. Now it wasn’t ever spoken and he was glad. 

 

“Then cast a resurrection spell and bring him back to life.” One of the men demanded.

 

Ben rolled his eyes, unimpressed by his words. “I don’t fight anymore.” He told him smoothly. “I’m busted. You were there. That transporter you had? My wings were destroyed. I can’t even fly.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He could go up, but not for long and carrying anything heavier than himself was nearly impossible. 

 

“All we need is one good fight. Just last long enough to bring an audience back. Think of all we have done for you, Angel.” 

 

Ben scoffed, rolling his eyes for a second time. All they had done for him. All the use and abuse they had caused. Long ago, Ben would have done anything for these men, but times were different. He didn’t need his name chanted by faceless fans. He had someone else to whisper it quietly as they laid together in the moonlight. 

 

Ben stood from the chair they had pushed him into. He didn’t flinch when they pulled the guns on him. “Find yourself a new pet to play with. I’m done.” 

 

They didn’t stop him when he walked out and for a bit, Ben thought that would be it. They’d find someone else to fight and forget all about him. He had suggested that he and Joe go out for a night, to unwind after a long week. They grabbed dinner and walked down the street, their hands together, fingers laced. 

 

They dressed nicely for the night, deciding to take the chance and make this their first official date, though it felt like they had been together far longer. When they arrived back to their place, they found it in shambles. 

 

Everything was destroyed. The tv, the couch, the pillows. Features were thrown all over the place and a stuffed doll with fake angel wings was nailed to the wall with a knife sticking out of it. 

 

Joe was left confused and Ben realized he never told Joe anything about the meeting. He tried to explain to him that it didn’t seem that important, but Joe wasn’t listening. He ran off into their room, kneeling to the ground at the sight he found. 

 

Joe had grown accustomed to taking his violin everywhere with him, but on nights like these, when it was just him and Ben, he felt like he didn’t need it. He left at home, sitting on the stand in the corner of the room. 

 

Now it was in pieces like it had been trampled by a herd of elephants. Joe reached out with shaking hands as he held the broken pieces. As Ben got closer, he found the bow snapped in two. 

 

“I’m so sorry, Joe.” He muttered, his voice low and wet. 

 

He should have never done this. Moved in with him or persuaded him to go out. If he was living on his own, Joe wouldn’t have been involved or if they had been home, they could have prevented this from happening. 

 

This violin had been Joe one and only. The original that he used when he was a child and discovered his abilities. And now it was completely destroyed. 

 

Ben knew he could relate to when his wings were harmed, but even they would heal in time. The violin wouldn’t put itself together. Hot tears fled down Joe’s face and the man left the room without a word.

 

Ben didn’t go after him, deciding to clean up the room instead. He gathered up the pillows and removed the knifed doll from the wall. The bed was still in one piece but the sheets were slashed up and had cigarette burns on them. Ben removed it all, making the room as bare as it could be. Joe was slightly narcotic and always kept extras of everything. In no time the bedroom was back to its usual self save for the few ideas that had been broken and the knife mark on the wall. 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Joe asked when Ben left the bedroom. 

 

“I didn’t think it mattered,” Ben confessed. “I wasn’t going to fight. I thought they’d find someone else.” 

 

“So you decided to keep it a secret?”

 

“It wasn’t a bloody secret!” Ben snapped. “I only want our lives to revolve around that club alright? I want us to move on from it.”

 

They met because of that club and while Ben would always be grateful for the life he once leads, he had something better with Joe now and he didn’t want to risk losing it by even entertaining the idea of going back. 

 

“Look, I’ll fix this, alright?”

 

“You can’t.” Joe stood, picking up the pieces of the brown violin that was once his pride and joy. Ben watched as he tossed it all into the trash and, letting it drop like it was last weeks leftovers. “I’m going to bed,” Joe muttered, turning in his heel and leaving the room. 

 

Ben didn’t follow. Instead, he left the loft all together and went down to the club. There were no fights going on but people were sitting and drinking, including the men who destroyed their home.

 

“Ahh. Hello pigeon boy,” one of them commented so easily.

 

“You want a fight?” He asked him. “I’ll give you one. My last one. You spread the word and make sure you get anyone who wants a piece of me. Three rounds. We split whatever the winnings or losings are.” 

 

The three men looked around, taken back by his suggestion. 

 

“I do that and you leave me alone forever. Deal?”

 

The three men erupted into laughter, pulling Ben into the back to celebrate. “Our Angel has returned!”

 

A day later the poster had been hung. Seeing his face, with his wings spread wide, looking ready to fight was a terrifying image. Long ago it brought a swell of pride to his chest but now he was shattered and hostile. He knew this was a terrible idea but he had to do it. He had to end it. 

 

He told Joe this time though he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. The male was angry. Beyond so. He looked at Ben such with disgust and didn’t even say anything at first. “Those fuckers took everything from us and you go and give them what they want?”

 

“It’s one final fight. I get paid whether I win or lose and then they leave us alone forever.” 

 

“Or they keep making you fight, threatening us until you do.” Joe voiced.

 

Ben had thought about that, about them going back on their word. Ben refuses to accept that. This was it for him. 

 

“You could be killed.” Joe reminded him darkly. “The last guy already ripped your wings out. All you do it fly and punch people and you can barely even fly at this point.” 

 

“Gee thanks for the pep talk.” 

 

“What the fuck do you want me to say!?” Joe snapped at him. “I already lost my violin, you think I want to lose you next?”

 

“You’re not going to lose me.” Ben moves in, placing his hand on Joe’s, squeezing it gently. “I’m doing this for us. One final time so we can make enough money and finally leave this place. Find a home big enough for us both, far away from this hell hole.” 

 

“This hell hole is our home.” 

 

It had been. For the longest time, it was where Ben felt welcomed and safe. And now he had that feeling inside of Joe’s arms. And that was enough reasoning for him to do this. 

 

“I’m going to fight whether you want to or not,” Ben told him quietly.

 

Joe looked at him, the hurt in his eyes obvious. “Don’t expect me to cheer you on.” He whispered, pushing up to leave the table.

 

Ben didn’t expect to see Joe there the night of the fight but it would have been a nice sight. To know he did have somebody in his corner. But Joe didn’t come and Ben was alone aside from the bundles of people who were there to see this fallen star come back to life. 

 

It was strange being in the cage again. So many people were crying out his own moniker and calling to him with excitement. For so long it had been enough for Ben, but now it was nothing but a bother, a distraction. They didn’t care for him, just what he could do for them. What show he could put on for them. It was disgusting and Ben just wanted this to be over with.

 

The fight started off slow, as they always did. They were warming up the crowd, wanting them to hype it all up. Ben did what he usually did. Flew around and kicked a bit. It was easy enough, just like old times. He beat the first mutant, a toad fellow, quite easily. He threw him against the electric fence, grimacing as the guards had to practically drag him off. 

 

Ben used to take pride in beating the shit out of his opponents, but he had a conscious now. He cared for people other than himself. 

 

When the second fighter came up, a girl who could control water, put up a bit of a fight. Ben didn’t even think about the whole ‘man hitting a woman’ issue, not having the chance as she pushed him to the ground to straddle and waterboard him. He managed to push her off, gasping and choking for air. 

 

The water weighed down his leather jacket and made his wings harder to fly. He looked over to the crowd and found the three men laughing, completely unfazed by Ben getting his ass handed to him. 

 

Ben decided it had to end sooner rather than later. 

 

Refusing to feel bad for his actions, Ben knocked the water bender out with his wings, moving to climb up the rafters as they pulled her out. He had one last person to fight and found it to be someone he had fought once before. 

 

The tall, lanky bastard they called Nightcrawler. Or as Ben knew him now, Rami. They had met again after their last night and both apologized like adults. Ben had no idea how Ram was dragged into this mess, but he was going to use it to his advantage. 

 

“Is Lucy here?” Ben asked as he circled the man, his eyes carefully trained on the transporter. “How is she doing with her powers.” 

 

“She can light a cigarette better than you can burn down a building,” Rami answered, going up into smoke and appearing behind Ben. He pushed him off the rafters, sending him falling to the ground with a thud. 

 

“That was uncalled for,” Ben muttered, looking up as Rami appeared before him. 

 

“I do not want to fight. But we must.” 

 

“I have a better idea.” He looked up to the beam high above. Pushing to his feet, Ben flew up, grabbing hold of it. He swung it forward, catching Rami off guard and hitting him promptly. “Payback!” 

 

“I deserved that,” Rami groaned, looking up from where he was lying on the ground.

 

Ben looked and found the three men watching them. Ben clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes. “On three. Get us out of here.” 

 

“What?” Rami stood to his feet, scrambling as he looked around. “They will kill us.”

 

“One…two…” 

 

“Angel!” 

 

Ben let out a scream, charging for Rami. When he slammed into him, they went flying. Rather than flying into the electric fence, they evaporated into a bundle of smoke, reappearing outside of the cage and falling to the floor at the feet of the crowd. 

 

All hell broke loose then, with security grabbing at them both. The crowd was fighting for and against the two men and before they knew it, everybody was punching and using their abilities to get the hell out of there. 

 

Rami disappeared in a puff of smoke, grabbing Lucy before escaping. Ben, on the other hand, stayed for the fight. He took of everybody he could, slamming his wings and taking the hits that were coming his way. He was bloody and bruised by the time he got to the three, but there was hell in his eyes. 

 

He had forgotten how good it felt to hurt people. And how badly it hurt him in the process. 

 

He approached them, using his wings to shield the bullets that were coming their way. He wasn’t bulletproof and the pain was enough to last, but he’d deal with it later. Grabbing the money they had collected, Ben pushed up, flying into the air. 

 

“Come near me again and I burn the place to the ground.” He swore, sending the men one last glance before flying out the skylight. 

 

Ben didn’t return home until the next day. He cleaned himself up to the best of his ability, washing away the blood and having his wings checked. He lost of feathers but it was obvious his wings were back in check. He was proud of that, his healing. It wasn’t easy and took a lot of time, but he was back. 

 

Walking into the loft, Ben found Joe exiting their room. He tossed down the briefcase of money, though it was lighter than before. 

 

“I saw you looking at it,” Ben said, offering Joe the violin case he was also carrying. They had gone to a music shop not too long ago and while Joe would have never replaced his violin, he always took the time to appreciate the newest selections. This one, in particular, was gorgeous. “I don’t know if it will work but . . . worth a shot.” 

 

Joe came forward, taking the case and opening it on the coffee table. Inside was the brand new violin. Never played, only tested. White and shiny with an angelic design, it looked like a dream. Joe caressed his fingers against it, looking away only to glance to Ben. 

 

“No more fighting,” Ben swore carefully. “Not me in the cage or us in general. Never again.” 

 

Joe’s face broke suddenly and he stepped forward, pulling Ben into a fight embrace. He was whispering over and over how worried he was and how he couldn’t bear to see him get hurt. He pulled back, looking over the cuts and bruises he had. He held Ben’s face so carefully in his hands, his thumb caressing his cheek so gently. 

 

“Did you win?” He asked him. 

 

“I’ve always been a winner. I have you don’t I?” He asked, his voice tight. 

 

Joe, somehow not disgusted by the cheesy line, smiled to him. Ben didn’t waste another moment. It might have been their first kiss, but it certainly wouldn’t be their last. Ben forced himself to break away, licking his lips as he gestured to the violin. 

 

“Try it, please.” 

 

Bobbing his head, Joe stepped back. He took his usual stance, shoulders back and chin up. Slowly, he began to play. The music was gentle and beautiful, just like the man before him. And as his eyes began to slow bright, Ben knew all was all right in their world again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no plans for anything after this. I probably could have cut this up into two chapters, but I didn't want to hold out on you all. So many people enjoyed it, so I hope this added onto that. 
> 
> PS, I don't know why I made Rami Nightcrawler. I originally wanted to make him like Benjamin from Twilight and control the elements, but to be honest, I just wanted to write this and post it, so I didn't put too much thought into it.

**Author's Note:**

> So. That was fun, right?
> 
> Again, I have no idea where this came from. Why do I do this? What even is this? 
> 
> I had to watch Ben's scenes on repeat to get his lines right, so please tell me you enjoyed this. Don't make me suffer for nothing.


End file.
